Burying Sons
by crazyarsonist
Summary: Because even hardened veterans are affected when their comrades fall.


**Useless Notes:** The idea came to me after watching the series' last two episodes. I found Kikuchiyo's death surprisingly depressing, considering he made a promise to little Komachi before going off.

Here's to those who fell and for those left behind in the show.

**Disclaimer:** _Samurai 7_ and its characters belong to Akira Kurosawa, not to me. Even my imagination's not this pretty.

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**Burying Sons**

"_In peace, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons."_

_-Herodotus_

Kanbei Shimada stood solemnly and reverently by the four graves, a mumbled prayer passing through his lips. His eyes were closed, his chin lay on his chest and his hands remained clasped beneath his chest, silently praying to any god in the heavens for the four men buried beneath the mounds of earth in front of him.

"Kanbei-sama?"

The older man looked up and nodded at the speaker, who moved towards to where he was standing. "Shichiroji."

He smiled wistfully at Kanbei and jerked his head towards the graves. "Praying for our dead comrades again, I see."

"I'm getting too old for this," Kanbei sighed. "Every time we go into a fight, everyone around us dies while we're left alive."

"Katsushiro's still alive, isn't he?" Shichiroji grinned, attempting a joke to lighten the situation. But at the sound of his pupil's name, the teacher sighed and shook his head.

"He's not what he used to be anymore," he said.

"Got the scent of the battlefield now, eh?" the other man shrugged, mimicking Kirara. "Isn't that how everyone is during their first time in war?"

"He reminds me too much of the past," Kanbei replied. "Something I don't give much thought to."

"And now it's come back to haunt you, eh Kanbei-sama?" Shichiroji grinned again.

Kanbei frowned. "What are you doing here anyway, Shichiroji?"

Shichiroji moved closer towards the graves. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, the grin leaving his face almost as soon as it arrived. "I'm here to say hello to our friends."

Soon, silence descended on the pair as both samurai prayed for their four fallen comrades. The cool air blew gently on the small hill they were on, compensating for the heat of the afternoon sun. All around them, there was nothing but silence, save for the innocent chirping of birds- a far cry from the chaotic noise of war only a few days ago.

"Do you ever regret it?" Shichiroji suddenly asked, breaking the silence. Kanbei looked up at his friend expectantly, waiting for him to complete his question.

"Regret what?" he asked, when it became obvious the younger man wasn't going to say anything anymore.

Shichiroji let his eyes run over the swords on the mounds. "Coming out of every war alive while your other comrades die in it," he said. "Do you ever regret that?"

It took Kanbei some time to answer the question, which was a good thing, since Shichiroji wasn't in any hurry to hear his question answered anyway.

"Sometimes," he finally replied. "Especially when they die young."

And without them knowing it, both men's eyes slowly drifted over to Kikuchiyo's grave. "It's never good to lose someone so young," Shichiroji agreed. "And looking at us now… It kind of seems unfair to survive all that…" A pause. "Doesn't it?"

A nod. "The young ones are always the ones who leave promises behind before going off to war," Kanbei said. "And yet, they are always the first ones to go. Every time a war ends…" he paused.

"It almost feels like I'm burying sons."

Beside him, Shichiroji smiled. "So that's how it feels for you?" When his friend nodded, he continued. "Every time I went to war, I always reminded myself not to get too involved with anybody. I was scared- especially after that last war we had together. Scared that I'd lose them eventually and that I'd be left behind here while they all moved on to the afterlife.

"But once I met them… Once I met these guys, I couldn't help it. They were all so… so different, you know? It was so hard not to get along with them. Even Kyuzo-dono, I guess," he chuckled a bit at the mention of his name. "He was an okay kind of guy, considering he didn't say much."

Another cool breeze blew through the trees, causing the samurais' makeshift banner to flutter wildly with it.

"I think," Shichiroji said quietly, looking at the banner, and then at the mounds. "I think that those days I spent traveling with you guys were some of the best days I've ever had. So I thank you four for that." He bowed.

"I've enjoyed those times as well," Kanbei bowed deeply, following suit. "Gentlemen, it's been an honor fighting by your sides."

Once he stood up again to his full height, he caught a smiling Shichiroji looking straight at him. "What?"

"Oh nothing," came the reply. "It's just that I imagine Kikuchiyo'd feel really happy to have heard you say that."

Kanbei raised an eyebrow.

"Well that and the fact that you just acknowledged him as a son of yours."

Kanbei glared at him.

"Okay, okay," he smiled and put up his hands in front of his chest. "You know I didn't mean anything by that."

"You're one to talk," the other samurai said. "You were uncharacteristically serious a while ago yourself."

Shichiroji grinned widely and shrugged. "Well, that's what age does to you."

Kanbei nodded and turned around to go.

"Kanbei-sama?"

He turned around. "I'm off, Shichiroji. Are you coming?" Receiving a nod in response, he nodded again and started walking into the forest behind them. Shichiroji then went off to follow him, but stopped and turned back to look at the four mounds.

"Shichiroji," a voice startled him. "We should get going."

"I know that." And he turned to follow his old friend out.

"We keep them in our hearts always," Kanbei said quietly, but making sure his companion heard him. "That way, they won't really die. That way, they live forever, no matter how long ago they died."

A grin. "I know that." Then, seeing as the mood needed some instant liveliness, Shichiroji grinned even wider, plucked out a memory and attempted to share it with Kanbei. "Hey, you know, I remember a joke Gorobei told me when we were traveling. You wanna hear it?"

Silence.

"… Okay then, guess not."

"Momotaro," Kanbei smiled suddenly, using the dreaded nickname. "Aren't you supposed to bring Lady Yukino gifts when you get home?"

"Dammit!" he groaned and slapped his face with his hand. The metallic hand. "Ow!"

"I'm pretty sure she'd get really mad if you don't bring her something."

"Dammit, why'd you tell me this only _now_?" he muttered, rubbing his sore face. "My pockets are empty and I don't- Say, hope you don't mind me asking but… You wouldn't happen to have any spare change with you now, would you?"

Silence.

"… Okay then, guess not."

And as the two samurai moved on forward, they slowly moved farther from their friends' graves, until eventually, both their figures and voices disappeared from the site altogether.

And it could have been the wind or something else, but as the two exited the burial site, the doll on Heihachi's sword slowly rocked back and forth with the wind, as if waving goodbye to his other comrades.

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Enjoy the year ahead and I hope to write more stories for this series again. Thanks again, all.


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